Had another column run!
It was in Sunday's paper. Read it here.*
(*Registration required.)
Or just read it here ...
Why am I so upset? Aniston can't even keep a man
By DANIELLE BELTON, Californian staff writer
e-mail: dbelton@bakersfield.com
So I've been really stressed out lately. I mean, I can't even sleep. It just so distressing. One day I'm up and then the next I'm down and it just seems like my heart is just living and dying at the same time.
God, what is going on with Brad and Jennifer!
They're on again. They're off again. I'm so distraught. I just don't know what to do with myself. If actors Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston can't make it, procreate and hop on those champion steeds of marital bliss and love and just ride together into the land of happiness, what chances do the rest of us have?
No chance! No chance!
I seriously don't think I could be famous. I can barely handle the fake level of fame I have in Bakersfield where people just ask me what bar they should go to this weekend or what play I liked. I don't think I could deal with US Weekly keeping track of what's on my feet every time I enter a gas station to use the john (like they did to Britney Spears. They gave her a most improved hygiene award for having on shoes the last time a paparazzo snagged her at a gas station heading for the potty. Apparently the last two times she was barefoot. The scandal!).
I mean, some days my afro is frizzy. I don't think I could handle seeing a scale showing shots of my hair on random days then having writers predict, based on my hair's frizz level, as to what my mood was.
Uh-oh. Her hair is dry and crispy. Must be man trouble!
But despite my confusion as to why I need to know about the state of Brad and Jen's affairs in the same manner other papers write about the war in the Gulf, entertainment rags fulfill their purpose.
They're entertaining.
With their "abandon all hope! Stop the world! Celebrities are unhappy!" headlines about stuff you probably shouldn't care about, they give you something to snicker over while in line at FoodMaxx.
Or hey, maybe you're me and you actually buy the things because you find them hilarious.
You know, anything to distract from my own horrible, dreary problems. I don't want to think about how I need to prepare my apartment for a bug bombing. I want to read meaningless pap about who folks in an Internet poll thought Pitt should date next if he and Aniston don't work out. They were pulling for either alleged marital interloper Angelina Jolie or "I-don't-know-why-this-even-came-up" Kirsten Dunst.
Isn't she 12? Isn't Pitt, like, 40?
Who knows? They're famous. They're ageless. They're keeping me from having to clean my shower. I'm grateful because celebrities and all their drama are saving lives. Do you realize that if people didn't have them to obsess over they'd have to deal with their rising credit card rates? Imagine the spike in murder/suicides.
Right now, obsessing over whether Good Charlotte is punk rock or not is saving teenagers' lives!
Celebrities right now are keeping some guy from going on that mass killing spree he'd been planning for months. You know he had it all meticulously planned then one day he read an article in Star about whether Kevin Federline will make a good father for Britney Spears' future babies. I mean, he won't even take care of their new dogs. He won't even care of the two kids he already has!
It's just so upsetting.
But we can all breathe a sigh of relief to finally know that Jennifer Lopez and Marc Anthony are really married. I just feel so much better now because that was really a concern of mine.
I think a lot of the obsession and fascination comes from the fact this is all basically a large extension of high school. All the popular kids got so big they got their own magazine and now we can read about them ad nauseam. Only now we have reporters (or at least people who masquerade as reporters) running around and stalking them, showing us all the navel-gazingly dull things about them to prove that the stars are just us with money.
Crazies become eccentrics. The slovenly become hipsters. Up is down. It's bizarro world.
Because if someone rich and pretty and famous can't find love, and folks who are broke, plain and unknown can't either, it just proves that the essence of life is the same regardless if your zip code is 93308 or 90210.
And because we're all in the same game (especially when it comes to love) I'm suggesting that famous people break into an new business venture -- self-help.
A seminar for women who just don't know why they can't find love hosted by Elizabeth Taylor and Liza Minnelli, featuring testimonials by Spears, Lopez, Halle Berry and Janet Jackson and they could title it --"Every Man In The World Wants Me, So Why Don't You?" A four-part reflection on how being rich, famous and beautiful does not mean you will be able to keep a man.
I think we could all learn a little something there.
(*Registration required.)
Or just read it here ...
Why am I so upset? Aniston can't even keep a man
By DANIELLE BELTON, Californian staff writer
e-mail: dbelton@bakersfield.com
So I've been really stressed out lately. I mean, I can't even sleep. It just so distressing. One day I'm up and then the next I'm down and it just seems like my heart is just living and dying at the same time.
God, what is going on with Brad and Jennifer!
They're on again. They're off again. I'm so distraught. I just don't know what to do with myself. If actors Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston can't make it, procreate and hop on those champion steeds of marital bliss and love and just ride together into the land of happiness, what chances do the rest of us have?
No chance! No chance!
I seriously don't think I could be famous. I can barely handle the fake level of fame I have in Bakersfield where people just ask me what bar they should go to this weekend or what play I liked. I don't think I could deal with US Weekly keeping track of what's on my feet every time I enter a gas station to use the john (like they did to Britney Spears. They gave her a most improved hygiene award for having on shoes the last time a paparazzo snagged her at a gas station heading for the potty. Apparently the last two times she was barefoot. The scandal!).
I mean, some days my afro is frizzy. I don't think I could handle seeing a scale showing shots of my hair on random days then having writers predict, based on my hair's frizz level, as to what my mood was.
Uh-oh. Her hair is dry and crispy. Must be man trouble!
But despite my confusion as to why I need to know about the state of Brad and Jen's affairs in the same manner other papers write about the war in the Gulf, entertainment rags fulfill their purpose.
They're entertaining.
With their "abandon all hope! Stop the world! Celebrities are unhappy!" headlines about stuff you probably shouldn't care about, they give you something to snicker over while in line at FoodMaxx.
Or hey, maybe you're me and you actually buy the things because you find them hilarious.
You know, anything to distract from my own horrible, dreary problems. I don't want to think about how I need to prepare my apartment for a bug bombing. I want to read meaningless pap about who folks in an Internet poll thought Pitt should date next if he and Aniston don't work out. They were pulling for either alleged marital interloper Angelina Jolie or "I-don't-know-why-this-even-came-up" Kirsten Dunst.
Isn't she 12? Isn't Pitt, like, 40?
Who knows? They're famous. They're ageless. They're keeping me from having to clean my shower. I'm grateful because celebrities and all their drama are saving lives. Do you realize that if people didn't have them to obsess over they'd have to deal with their rising credit card rates? Imagine the spike in murder/suicides.
Right now, obsessing over whether Good Charlotte is punk rock or not is saving teenagers' lives!
Celebrities right now are keeping some guy from going on that mass killing spree he'd been planning for months. You know he had it all meticulously planned then one day he read an article in Star about whether Kevin Federline will make a good father for Britney Spears' future babies. I mean, he won't even take care of their new dogs. He won't even care of the two kids he already has!
It's just so upsetting.
But we can all breathe a sigh of relief to finally know that Jennifer Lopez and Marc Anthony are really married. I just feel so much better now because that was really a concern of mine.
I think a lot of the obsession and fascination comes from the fact this is all basically a large extension of high school. All the popular kids got so big they got their own magazine and now we can read about them ad nauseam. Only now we have reporters (or at least people who masquerade as reporters) running around and stalking them, showing us all the navel-gazingly dull things about them to prove that the stars are just us with money.
Crazies become eccentrics. The slovenly become hipsters. Up is down. It's bizarro world.
Because if someone rich and pretty and famous can't find love, and folks who are broke, plain and unknown can't either, it just proves that the essence of life is the same regardless if your zip code is 93308 or 90210.
And because we're all in the same game (especially when it comes to love) I'm suggesting that famous people break into an new business venture -- self-help.
A seminar for women who just don't know why they can't find love hosted by Elizabeth Taylor and Liza Minnelli, featuring testimonials by Spears, Lopez, Halle Berry and Janet Jackson and they could title it --"Every Man In The World Wants Me, So Why Don't You?" A four-part reflection on how being rich, famous and beautiful does not mean you will be able to keep a man.
I think we could all learn a little something there.
posted by Danielle Belton @ 12:25 PM
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